


Devils and Gods

by themayqueen



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Brothers, F/M, Flirting, Maids, Mansion Fic, Murder Mystery, Musicians, References to Clue | Cluedo, Storms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-12
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-02-26 15:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: While trying to record their fourth album, Hanson have decided to spend a weekend at a “friend’s” mansion with a very strange cast of characters. Isaac has a feeling the weekend isn’t going to end well. A power outage followed by a murder soon prove him right. Can he and his brothers figure out who did it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Hanfic Genre Challenge 2010 for the category of Mystery/Detective. It was not finished and is on indefinite hiatus--meaning you really shouldn't expect any new updates past chapter five.

It was a dark and stormy night, like the beginning of one of those cheesy detective novels that were always the cheapest in the airport bookstores. After countless long or delayed flights, Isaac had developed quite a liking for those sort of novels. On this particular night, he was dying for one of those old familiar, books. He was pretty sure, however, there wouldn't be one anywhere to be found in the house they were staying in.

And what a house it was.

This recording getaway had been Taylor's idea. Remy Black was a socialite friend of Taylor's, someone he had met at one of those sleazy clubs he loved to go to, and Ike had to admit the guy had a certain weird charm about him. He was big in the music business, somehow, even though he didn't really seem to do much aside from some songwriting and a radio show a few years back. Whatever he did, he had tons of money and a huge mansion that he rented, or loaned if you were lucky, to friends and acquaintances who needed a change of scenery to get an album recorded.

It had seemed like a great idea at first but now it was driving Isaac a bit stir crazy. Remy's huge, plush library was well stocked, but mostly with obscure things like heavy volumes on religion and Russian literature--nothing mind numbing enough to interest him while they waited for some of their collaborators to arrive so that they could actually begin to work.

He finally settled for the lone Agatha Christie novel sandwiched between Pushkin and the Bhagavad Gita. Ike was quite certain he had read it before but it would still be just enough to numb his brain against Taylor's whining about why everyone was late and Zac's babbling on about whatever it was he usually babbled on about. 

A particularly loud clap of thunder rocked the house just as Isaac tried to settle into a chair with his novel and he suddenly found it very hard to settle at all. When he was certain the mansion wasn't going to come crashing down around him, he managed to cozy himself into the leather chair and opened the book to begin reading. He made it no further than the first paragraph when the library doors flew open and revealed a flurry of people gathered on the other side.

"Ike, there you are! We've been looking everywhere for you," Remy called out as he ushered the crowd into the room.

Isaac slammed his book down on the table and sighed. So much for a little relaxing. He had really hoped this little get away would allow him for some downtime in addition to the recording, but it was looking less and less likely by the minute.

"Come on in, everyone," Remy said. "Ike, these are the guys I was telling you about. Blaine Ochre, he's the producer I introduced you to a while back, remember? You guys will get on great. And this is Rio Mulberry, he's been dying to write with you guys."

He mumbled a hello to both men then glanced over at Zac, who had followed them into the room. Zac offered Ike a small shrug and Isaac could tell by his frown that they were thinking the same thing. Neither man looked like they were particularly excited about the prospect of working with Hanson. He did remember Blaine, the stuffy old guy in a dorky tweed suit, from a press party for their last album, Underneath. Neither he nor his brothers had been impressed then either. And as for Rio, he looked like quite the character. Ike suspected Taylor had been the one to suggest that collaborator to Remy; anyone who wore a purple crushed velvet beret had to be the sort of guy Taylor wanted to befriend. 

"I'll leave you guys to it, then. I think Tay's still downstairs getting to know Poppy..." Remy trailed off, a knowing smirk on his face.

Ike could only roll his eyes in response to that. He knew exactly what the implication was and it infuriated him to no end. Another fling was exactly what Taylor didn't need to be having right then.

****

She was gorgeous. She was absolutely gorgeous. Taylor knew she had just asked him a question about the album, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was.

"Taylor? Taylor? Anyone in there?" the woman named Poppy Carmine asked and Taylor could not peel his gaze away from her perfectly red lips.

"Of course," Tay replied, running a hand through his hair in a move he knew made women and girls swoon. He had spent years fine tuning all those little mannerisms. "Just figuring out how to answer. It's such a... _complex_ record."

"Naturally. You do seem like a... _complex_ guy," Poppy replied, offering Taylor a wide grin.

This was going to be a fun weekend, Taylor decided.

****

Zac was really trying to stay positive about this weekend. He had been excited about the weekend when Taylor first suggested it but now he was just sort of going along for the ride. If they were going to get any work done at all over the next two days, it would be a lot easier to keep his worries to himself and try to finish a song or two.

He shuffled across the library and settled into the chair nearest Isaac's. It really wasn't very comfortable but nothing in this big expensive place seemed to be. The two weirdos, Blaine and Rio, seemed right at home, however. They plopped down onto the remaining seats and Rio began questioning Ike about the song ideas they had brought with them. Blaine settled back and adopted that bored stare that Zac thought all producers must have studied long and hard to perfect.

With only the slightest prompting from Rio, Isaac was off on a ramble to beat all rambles. They had several songs in the works that he knew Isaac had been dying to discuss with someone. Zac was always more personal about his songs, preferring to keep the lyrics to himself until he was happy with them. So he kept his mouth shut and offered nods and laughs in the appropriate spots while Ike chattered on.

It wasn't long before he was bored out of his mind and his attention drifted far away from the conversation at hand. He found himself staring at the pattern of the wood grain on the library door, trying to puzzle his way through the last level of the video game he had forgotten to bring with him. Not like he would have gotten a chance to play it, anyway. His attention was brought back to the room when the heavy door slowly swung open and a person he didn't recognize appeared.

A petite, blonde in a black dress rapped her knuckles against the door and peaked her head around it timidly. 

"Excuse me, Remy sent me in to ask if you guys wanted any refreshments? Drinks or anything?"

"Scotch on the rocks for me," Blaine replied, and the other two mumbled their agreement.

Zac shook his head. "Just a soda for me is fine. Dr. Pepper if you've got it."

"Oh, good," the girl replied, finally walking fully into the room. She held a tray stacked with a variety of sodas perched precariously against her hip as she walked toward the small bar nestled against one wall of the room.

Zac couldn't help watching her as she prepared their drinks. She looked very, very nervous and frazzled. He thought that was a bit strange since they were definitely not the first group of guests Remy had stay for a weekend, but maybe she was new on the job. She had to be young, he decided. Maybe a college student working to pay her way through school.

He felt a bit silly, but something about her just held his attention. The others didn't even seem to notice as he stood and shuffled toward the bar where she still struggled to fix all of their drinks.

He coughed slightly to get her attention, regretting it as he watched a few drops of scotch spill over the edge of one of the glasses. Feeling completely ridiculous, he could think of nothing to say but, "Hi."

"Hi," the girl replied, only glancing briefly at Zac, then looking back down at the glasses, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

"Umm, I haven't seen you around yet. Just figured I'd introduce myself. I'm Zac," he said, fighting the urge to stick his hand out to her. Knowing him, he'd just knock over one of the drinks anyway.

"Remy likes for the help to stay out of the way," she replied. "I'm Gwyn."

"Well that's not very nice. I'm sure you're bored to death just fixing drinks for crazy musicians all the time."

"You don't look crazy," she replied, finally recapping the scotch and looking up to take in Zac's appearance. He could feel himself blushing a little as her eyes swept over him. 

"Maybe I just hide it well."

****

After a while, the group tired of the library and decided to move downstairs to the large ballroom, which Rio assured Isaac had superior acoustics to nearly any other part of the house, aside from the state of the art studio, of course. Ike could tell that Rio had spent a lot of time at the mansion, so he decided to trust his judgment and followed him down the stairs, guitar in hand.

When they arrived at the ballroom, which felt like it took ages given the size of the place, the soft sound of a piano already trickled out the door. Rio swung the door open and ushered them in with a flourish. Ike was not at all surprised that the piano player was none other than his brother Taylor, ever playing the part of Casanova. A woman dressed in red, whom he could only assume was Poppy, sat cozied up to Taylor on the bench as he played some new song to show off for her.

The woman giggled and tossed her head back as Taylor leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and the whole scene just made Isaac want to hurl. 

He coughed loudly to attract Taylor's attention. "Can we get started working some time tonight or is that too much to ask?"

"I am working, Ike," Tay said, his brow furrowing slightly. "This is a new song. I was just letting Poppy hear it to get her opinion. Poppy, these two dorks are my brothers, Ike and Zac."

"Well, you two grew up nice and handsome, didn't you?" Poppy cooed, her smile making Isaac sick.

Zac rolled his eyes, looking just as thrilled with Poppy as Ike was. "Seriously, Tay. Let's get some shit done. This is Blaine, the new producer, and this is --"

"Rio Mulberry," he interjected, cutting Zac off and offering Taylor his hand. "We talked on the phone a few weeks ago."

"Oh, right," Taylor said, jumping up and leaving Poppy looking rather dejected and alone in the piano bench. Ike nearly laughed aloud at her ridiculous pout as Taylor enthusiastically greeted Rio. "It's great to get the chance to work with you. It sounds like you've got some great ideas for us."

"Good enough to steal," Rio replied, a strange look flashing in his eyes for just a second. Isaac didn't think anyone else had noticed it, but he had. It always seemed he picked up on little things like that which no one else seemed to notice. If he could just figure out what it meant, maybe the skill would actually be useful.

Taylor suddenly turned back to the woman he had abandoned and leaned down to speak directly to her. He was really laying the charm on thick. "How would you like to join us in the studio and get some exclusive material on our recording process?"

"Ooh, that sounds fantastic. I'd love to see you guys... up close and personal," she replied, her eyes sparkling.

Isaac had had enough. At this rate, they would never get any work done. He grabbed Taylor by the arm and, although Taylor was arguably the larger one, managed to drag him into the corridor with little trouble.

"What the hell, Ike?" Taylor yelped as Ike drug him further still, around a corner and out of earshot of anyone who had just witnessed their exit.

"You need to turn off the hormones this weekend, Tay. This is getting ridiculous."

"What are you talking about? It was just a little harmless flirting," Taylor replied, yanking his arm back out of Isaac's grasp and smoothing his shirt back down.

"Sure, it's just a little harmless flirting," Isaac said, growing more irritated with his brother. "But you know you can't stop there, and it's gonna make this weekend hell. We're here to work, for Christ's sake. Not to pick up chicks."

"Alright, fine. I'll back off a little," Taylor huffed, then stormed off.

Isaac rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall. This was going to be a long, long weekend. He just hoped that they managed to actually accomplish some songwriting and maybe even record one track. That would be enough for him. But at the rate things were going, even that didn't look very likely.

****

The studio was mercifully quiet and empty. The person pulled the door shut behind them slowly, being careful not to let a single sound give away their presence. Once the door was closed, they flipped the light switch and observed the surroundings. Rolling thunder was barely audible through the room's soundproofing, the only sound that could be heard at all.

For a moment, the figure stood still, contemplating. What they needed was certainly in this room somewhere, but where to begin? They eyed a row of guitars displayed across one wall. Perhaps a guitar string... but no, that would be too difficult. Too much strength required to make that work.

Long, thin fingers ran across the switchboard that controlled the expensive studio equipment. If only they knew a way to electrocute someone. Surely a studio full of so much electronic equipment would be the ideal place. But that would probably be too loud.

Nothing seemed quite right, yet the perfect tool just had to be in this room somewhere.

Finally, their eyes settled on it. A microphone stand poised in the middle of the recording booth, its cord snaking across the floor. That cord would be much easier to use than a guitar string, that was for certain. The person stepped forward, into the booth and took the cord in their hands. It felt just right in their hands. Yes, this would do.

The perfect murder weapon. The perfect way to finally rid the world of Remy Black.


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac was utterly relieved that Taylor's newest conquest did not follow them to the studio. He wondered how they were going to get anything at all accomplished with Taylor so lovestruck and Zac being... well, he hadn't really paid attention to what Zac was being, but now that he thought about it, he seemed a bit distant, too. Ike thought over his mental to do list and added "figure out what's up with Zac" to the bottom of the list. He'd get around to it, he was sure, before the weekend was out.

With these thoughts in mind, he following the procession of his brothers, Rio and Blaine to the studio, which lay tucked into a corner of the second floor of the house. He could only imagine how impressive a studio it would be; everything about this place was impressive. Sure, he and his brothers had pretty nice homes, but they were nothing compared to this. 

Ike ran his hand along the textured wallpaper that ran along the length of the hallway, feeling the rich texture of it on his fingertips. He barely even looked in front of himself at all, and so he really shouldn't have been surprised when he bumped right into someone. He shook off the impact and glanced up to see whose body he had collided with.

It was the blond maid from earlier; Isaac found himself at a loss for her name. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" she squeaked out, her eyes wide as she stared up at him.

Ike laughed it off. "I'm fine, just a little shaken up. Totally my fault, I wasn't paying attention."

"Oh no, I wasn't either. I was just cleaning a few things up uh... for you guys. Making sure everything was nice and, and tidy the way Remy likes it," the girl explained, looking past Isaac to eye Zac.

Ike turned his head to see Zac's reaction and was rewarded with the sight of Zac's rosy red cheeks. He looked back at the girl and offered her another smile to assure her everything was fine. She squeezed past the two of them, and Isaac thought he could see a slight blush on her face as well, as she tried not to look up at either of them. He glanced back at Zac who looked quite like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Well, he could cross that mystery off his to-do list.

****

Zac liked being a drummer.

He like being a drummer because more often than not, he had his own little section of the studio where he could just sit and ignore everyone around him. Sure, there were other reasons to like being a drummer. But when one of your brothers had a stick up his ass, the other one was in heat and the people you were supposed to be working with were eccentric at best, it was just really nice to be able to hide yourself away from it all and claim you were working.

He pulled on his headphones and started drumming away, just to drown out all the arguing going on around him. Okay, it wasn't like they were screaming. But the tension was palpable and it was driving him nuts. Taylor was obviously dying to go downstairs and find his new woman, and it looked like if he didn't get the chance, he might very well fling himself on that Rio guy. Apparently Rio was the hip songwriter to work with but Zac thought he just kind of looked like a tool. No wonder Taylor was so fond of him.

Zac mostly laughed off Taylor's ways, but it always got under Ike's skin. Like right now, he could see the way Isaac's brow furrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip. Zac knew what that look meant. He was holding back saying whatever he really wanted to say to Tay, and Zac was just praying that Ike could keep it bottled up.

Then there was that Blaine guy. Something about him just made Zac's skin crawl. He never liked producers anyway. They were always so judgmental and never seemed to get what the band was going for. He'd much rather try to produce this thing on their own than deal with stuffed suits like this guy. Not that he ever had much say in what the band did, though.

"Zac! Zac, are you listening?" a voice finally broke through Zac's thoughts, just as someone's hands reached up to knock the headphones of his head.

"What?" Zac asked, struggling to keep his balance on the drum throne after the slight shock.

Isaac frowned at him. "You can't hog the studio all day. Get out of here so we can get some guitar tracks laid down."

"I thought you weren't gonna record any guitar tonight?" Zac remarked, standing up and setting the headphones down. He followed Isaac out of the recording booth, still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, we weren't," Ike replied. "But one of Remy's friends just showed up and he's a studio musician. Plays a real nice guitar, too. I figured we could see what he could do for some of our songs."

"Okay, sure," Zac replied, twirling his drumsticks idly. Once again, a decision had been made without consulting him. He really wasn't surprised at all.

Zac realized just how immersed he had been in his little world when he entered the outer part of the studio and saw that a new person had joined them. This guy looked every bit as sketchy as Zac expected studio musicians to look – tall and wiry, with mismatched and dingy clothes. 

Blaine finally stood from his position on the couch and motioned the new man toward Zac. "Jude, this is Zac. He's the drummer. Zac, this is Jude Viridian. Great guitarist. You guys will love working with him."

"Nice to meet you," Zac said, offering Jude his hand to shake. He was rewarded with a lackluster handshake and a barely noticeable nod of the head. 

He wasn't sure Jude was entirely all there. It bothered him, too, that Blaine seemed to certain that he already knew the sort of person they would enjoy working with. He didn't know them at all. But Zac knew better than to create any waves, at least until it was absolutely necessary. If he could sit back and let this Jude guy duke it out with Ike without getting involved himself, he would consider it a good night.

****

Taylor couldn't wait to get out of the studio. It wasn't like he didn't want to record, but after arguing about lyrics for over an hour, he needed a break. This new guitarist was sure to hold Isaac's attention for a while, and Taylor thought that gave him the perfect opportunity. He just had to sneak out of the room without anyone noticing...

The opportunity came when Jude stepped into the studio and plugged in his guitar. The guy looked totally strung out, but when he began to play, all eyes were on him. Except Taylor's. Taylor's thoughts were elsewhere and his eyes were on the door. Walking on tiptoes, he made his way to the door and slipped out. No one looked away from Jude and his wailing guitar for even a second.

Once he was safely out in the hallway, Taylor leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh. He felt like a criminal sneaking around, but he really didn't feel like dealing with his brothers' accusations. At least not until they had something to accuse him of. He hadn't done anything yet, really. Just a little harmless flirting.

He had every intention of changing that, however.

Still stepping softly, as though someone might come looking for him at any moment or jump out from behind a corner, he made his way down the hall. He didn't know for sure where he would find her, but he had a guess. Remy had given them a quick tour of the mansion's highlights earlier, and Taylor had a feeling he would find Poppy in what Remy had referred to as his billiard room. 

Taylor realized he was trembling. Was he actually nervous? He couldn't remember the last time a woman had made him nervous. He was always full of confidence – a lifetime of successful conquests tended to have that effect on a guy. But something about this sneaking around, he supposed, put a little fear into him. He decided to take a detour to the kitchen to pour himself a drink first. Remy had assured them that anything they found in the kitchen was fair game, and Taylor had every intention of finding the liquor cabinet.

Once he made his way down the stairs, his long legs easily taking them two at a time, he found himself not too far from the kitchen. He remembered it from earlier, talking to Poppy at the small table nestled by the window. Although the mansion was large and sprawling, he had already managed to commit to memory a few of the rooms. Attaching that one to the memory of Poppy's sparkling eyes and gorgeous full lips... well, he didn't think he could even force himself to forget where the kitchen was.

He padded across the tiled floor and began flipping open the large, floor length cabinets, finally finding the store of liquor in the third cabinet he tried. He pulled out a bottle of rum, figuring that would do the least damage to his breath, and fumbled through the smaller cabinets for a glass. He didn't bother mixing it with anything; he only needed a few swallows of the almost clear liquid to give his head a nice buzz and still his nerves.

The first drink didn't quite do it, though. There was still this strange, nervous twinge in the base of Taylor's spine. He decided a second drink was what he needed, and opened the refrigerator to find some soda to mix it with. With his drink now mixed to perfection, he was ready. 

A healthy bit more confidence now in his steps, he strode down the hall toward the so-called billiard room. Who called it that anyway? Remy was a strange one, that was for sure. But Taylor liked him. He was a good guy to know if you were trying to get stuff done in the music business, and god knows they needed someone like that now that they were out on their own.

It didn't hurt that Remy had such attractive friends, either. As he counted the doors to find the right one, Taylor wondered if perhaps Remy had planned this, inviting Poppy for the weekend too. It wasn't like his reputation as a bit of a player had gone unnoticed by... well, anyone. He would have to thank Remy later, he decided.

Finally certain he had found the right room, Taylor pushed open the intricately carved wooden door and was granted with exactly what he wanted to see. In the middle of the room was a large pool table, which he found Poppy leaning over, her dress hanging dangerously low as she studied the shot she was about to take. Remy leaned against a shelf and raised an eyebrow to Taylor, but said nothing.

"Needed a little break from recording," Taylor said, unprompted. "Figured I would see what was going on down here."

Poppy glanced up from the pool table and Taylor could barely keep himself from moaning at the way she looked at him with her eyes wide and pointed upwards. 

"Remy is trying to teach me how to play pool, but I don't think I'm very good at it. I don't suppose you could help..." she trailed off suggestively.

Taylor took a few steps forward, closing the distance between the two of them and leaning his hip against the side of the table. "I'm no expert myself, but I could give it a try. I'm sure we could have some fun with it no matter what."

Poppy's eyes sparkled in a way that made Taylor suspect she had more on her mind than just a few pool lessons, and he couldn't deny that his mind was wandering in that direction as well. 

"Why don't you come over here and see if you can help me, then?" She asked, her lips pouting every so slightly.

Taylor grinned and slipped behind Poppy, placing one hand on her hip and using the other to guide her hands on the pool cue. Her body heat mingling with his made it hard to focus, but he forced himself to ignore the feeling, at least as much as possible. Leaning in close enough for his breath to tickle her ear, he whispered a few simple directions.

From where he was perched against the wall, Remy let out a small cough. "I think I'll just leave you two alone then? Looks like you've got things under control here, Tay."

"I suppose I do," Taylor replied, instinctively tightening his grip on Poppy's hip. Something in Remy's voice sounded a bit like jealousy, but he couldn't be sure. Before he could contemplate it further, the older man had slipped out the door, letting it slam behind him and leaving Taylor and Poppy alone. Just the way he had wanted it.


	3. Chapter 3

Isaac didn't know how long Taylor had been gone before he noticed. He had gotten so caught up in trying to control everything in the studio that he couldn't really blame himself for losing track of one brother. At least he knew where Zac was, although he was beginning to suspect that Zac might be sleeping with his eyes open for as little as he had spoken or even moved since he left the recording booth.

Blaine was quiet too, but in a way that didn't bother him as much as Zac's quietness. Producers seemed to come in two types, as far as Ike could tell. The kind who couldn't shut up about their awesome ideas, which usually weren't all that awesome, and the kind who spoke up very infrequently. Of course, the second type could either be brilliant or totally brainless. Blaine hadn't proven himself to be anything yet but very judgmental-–without saying more than about ten words, total.

Jude and Rio, on the other hand, were talking enough for everyone else. They seemed to keep arguing the same things over and over again, beating more dead horses than he thought he and his brothers had ever done. He looked to Zac for help and Zac just shrugged. 

"All I'm saying is that the guitar part isn't strong enough on this song-–it needs something more powerful to offset these lyrics. If you'd been here when we were putting the lyrics together, you'd get it," Rio said.

Jude rolled his eyes. "And who exactly was putting those lyrics together, again?"

Rio looked ready to slap the other man, but Jude barely seemed to notice and kept plucking mindlessly at the guitar resting in his lap. He seemed content that he had made his point and was ready to finally end the argument.

Isaac wondered what that was all about, but he was really not brave enough to ask. Instead, he turned to Blaine, hoping to finally get something useful from him. "What do you think about it? I'm totally willing to go back and add a stronger solo in, if that's what the song needs."

Blaine stroked his chin for a moment, staring off into the distance. Finally, he replied, "Personally, I think you may want to give some more thought to the whole composition. I'm not totally sold on the lyrics yet, and I can't make a good judgment on the guitar until I'm certain about what you're trying to tell me with the song."

Jude let out a low growl and stood. "Forget it, then. I'm done for tonight. I'm not getting paid just to stand around here, so until you guys can nail down some lyrics... I'm out. Wake me up when you're ready to try this again."

With that, Jude grabbed up his guitar case, slung both it and the guitar over his shoulder and stalked out of the room. An odd silence descended over everyone and it was at that exact moment Isaac noticed Taylor's absence. Had Taylor been there, he would have been reassuring everyone that they could work it all out. He would have been chasing Jude down the hall, offering him smiles and cheerfulness. Isaac couldn't do it. He couldn't be so peppy and positive when the whole thing was a mess. As much as he hated to admit it sometimes, he needed his brother.

"Look, I'm gonna go find Taylor," Isaac said, scanning the room to look at everyone's still shocked faces. "If the two of us can figure something out about these lyrics, we'll keep hammering away for a while. But otherwise, I think we may need to just call it a night."

Before anyone could reply to that, not that he really expected any sort of reply, Isaac turned and stormed out of the room. The more he thought about it, the angrier he was that Taylor had deserted them, especially since he had a pretty good idea where he had gone-–or at least _who_ he had gone to.

Someone really needed to slap some sense into that boy, and Isaac had a sinking feeling it was going to have to be him.

He stomped down the stairs, hoping that he would be able to find Taylor in one of the rooms down there. He really didn't want to start searching through bedrooms, but that was always a possibility too. When he neared the parlor, he heard a loud voice and decided to check there first.

As he rounded the corner and walked through the parlor's large doorway, he saw that Remy was standing at the window, one hand on his hip and a frown on his face. He held his phone at a slight distance from his ear, and although Isaac couldn't made out the words, he could tell the voice on the other end was loud and angry.

"Yes, yes I know... I can guarantee that you do not in fact hear any-–because the studio is soundproofed, Mrs. Cobalt... yes, soundproofed... I understand... there is no need. No, you absolutely do not need to-–Mrs. Cobalt. Mrs. Cobalt?"

With that, Remy stabbed a button on the phone and tossed it across the room. It landed with a thud on the opposite wall, barely a foot shy of Isaac.

"Oh, I'm sorry-–I didn't see you there, Ike," Remy said, his eyes going wide as he turned to face his guest.

"Sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping. I heard a voice and I thought maybe Taylor was in here. He slipped out of the studio earlier and I haven't been able to find him yet," Ike explained.

"I've got a pretty good idea where he is," Remy said, his mouth a thin, tight line.

Isaac groaned. It was just as he feared. As if on cue, he was suddenly assaulted by the shrill sound of a woman laughing, and he could only imagine such a sound would have come from Poppy. No sooner had Isaac determined this but Taylor and Poppy came into view at the doorway of the parlor, arm in arm.

"Oh, Ike. I don't suppose you guys need me back, do you? I figured you'd be working on the guitar stuff for a while..." Taylor trailed off, giving Isaac a look that somehow managed to be hopeful and just a little bit smug.

He wanted to smack Taylor. He really, really did. It took all of his self-restraint to hold himself back. Getting kicked out of Remy's house for smacking that look off his brother's face wasn't really on Ike's agenda for the weekend. 

"Look, whether we're done or not, you can't just walk out like that. It would be nice to have the entire band in the studio," Isaac said.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Seriously, we were getting nothing done. The arguing doesn't get a song recorded. I only skipped out once you and that Jude guy actually started to get something done. You didn't need me for that."

"You could at least let us all know where you're going before you slip away. Although, on the other hand, I'm not sure I really wanted to know in the first place," Isaac said, trying to refrain from insulting Poppy further. Truthfully he didn't know her well enough to make the kind of judgments he wanted to make. But he did know Taylor, and that meant he knew all too well the kind of woman Taylor went for.

Taylor leaned down to whisper something in Poppy's ear and she nodded in obvious agreement with whatever he had suggested. His smile faded away as he turned back to Isaac.

"Forget it. I'm not arguing with you any more tonight. I think we all need to just chill out – have a few drinks, veg out, go to bed, whatever. We can get some more done in the morning. We've got all day to focus on the music tomorrow. Diving right in tonight when we could have just... _socialized_ a little was just putting ourselves under too much pressure."

Isaac thew his hands up in frustration. "Alright, fine. Whatever. We'll break for the night. I don't know what Zac's doing up there alone with Jude and Rio at each other's throats, anyway, and Blaine being just this side of useless. I should probably go rescue him."

"You do that, then," Taylor replied, wrapping his arm tight around Poppy. "We're going to get fresh drinks and then resume our game of pool."

With that, Taylor and Poppy turned and exited the parlor, cuddled quite cosily against each other. Isaac could do nothing but stare at their retreating forms and shake his head. He had lost control of the entire night. It wasn't like he harbored any delusions that he really controlled the band, but it was frustrating when they all seemed to be going in different directions that just couldn't seem to be reconciled.

Isaac looked to Remy for help, but the man only offered him a shrug. With a sigh, he decided to make his retreat back to the library. Maybe he would try some Russian lit after all. At least that would be easier to figure out that how to deal with his brothers. 

Upon reaching the library, he was happy to see that it was empty. Some time by himself, without anyone arguing with or around him, would be very pleasant. If nothing else was accomplished during this trip, he would at least get in a rest and relaxation in. Given his recent break-up, which he'd mostly blamed on the stress of recording, he really needed that. With that thought in mind, Ike poured himself a drink from the mini-bar and picked up the book he had selected earlier, but not had time to do more than flip open.

The thing Ike liked best about those silly mystery stories was that nothing really happened. Oh sure, there was usually a murder or maybe some other sort of serious crime. But it was never gory and detailed, and the solution to it all just sort of fell into the protagonists' lap. It was just so easy and oddly comforting to read.

What wasn't comforting, however, was the thunder storm that continued to rage outside the mansion. A long, loud roll of thunder made Isaac shiver, and the following flash of lightening only made him curl up further in his chair. Just as soon as the storm had illuminated the room with bright yellow light, it was plunged into darkness. Isaac dropped the book and immediately groped for the arms of the chair, needing to feel something sturdy and at least relatively immobile in his hands.

He wanted to stand but he couldn't bring himself to. The faint light from outside that streamed in through the picture window wasn't nearly enough to give Ike the confidence to think he would make it across the room without tripping-–probably over nothing but his own feet-–and falling.

A sound at the door frightened him. Footsteps-–followed by a loud thump, which was then followed by an equally loud curse.

"Fuck!"

Isaac recognized the voice and manged, just barely, to relax.

A second later the door opened and although he couldn't make out the figure as anything more than just average sized and male, he strongly suspected it was Zac. 

"Who's there? Tay? Ike?"

Yes, definitely Zac. Ike released his death grip on the chair's armrests and sighed deeply. "It's me. Just me. Tay's... otherwise occupied, I'm afraid. At least he was before the lights went out."

Ike imagined he could almost hear Zac's eyes rolling. "Of course he is. I got tired of waiting for you to get back with him and after I had to practically pry Jude and Rio off each other, I decided to give up on getting any work done. I think they went looking for Remy, though..."

In the eerie quiet, another set of footsteps approaching the library was easy to hear, and both Isaac and Zac instinctively turned toward the doorway, as best they could judge, even though there was little chance of seeing anything. To Isaac's surprise and relief, he could see a dull glow as the door eased open.

Within a few agonizing seconds, Remy appeared, illuminated by the candlesticks both he and the maid-–Ike still hadn't managed to catch her name-–carried in their hands.

"Well, this makes things a bit more exciting, doesn't it?" Remy asked, a rather maniacal grin on his face.

Zac folded his arms across his chest. "Does this happen often?"

"Oh, only in really bad storms," Remy replied, holding out a candle for Isaac to take. "Sorry, I couldn't find enough batteries to give everyone flashlights. I guess you'll have to make do with candles. I think there are a few more candles in all your rooms, but you might want to double up just to be on the safe side."

"Great. Just fucking great," Isaac grumbled. "Any idea when the power will be back?"

"No clue. Phones are out, too. Looks like even cell phones are down, though that's really not surprising this weather," Remy replied with a shrug. "I'm going to make sure nothing in the studio was damaged when the power went out. Could have been a surge or something. I'd suggest you guys just settle in for the night."

With that, Remy turned and strode out of the room, whistling softly to himself. He seemed to be enjoying the power outage far more than any sane person ought to. Then again, Isaac had no proof that Remy was a sane person.

Isaac sighed. This was going to be a long, long night.

****

Zac frowned as he watched Remy walk out of the room. Gwyn stayed behind, looking quite scared as she walked to him and handed him a candle.

"Are you afraid of the dark? Don't like storms?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Never liked storms. Not one bit. I guess they have their purpose but..."

"I don't like them either," Zac agreed. "I doubt I'll be able to sleep at all, but it's not like there's anything to do around here with no power."

"Well..." Gwyn replied, looking down. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

She looked like she wanted to say something more, but was holding herself back. Zac watched as she turned and scurried out of the room, biting his lip as he tried to figure out what she could mean.

Zac didn't give himself more than a few seconds to think before he hurried out the door to follow her. He knew if he gave himself even a moment's delay, he wouldn't go through with it. He'd never been quite the flirt that Taylor was; he was really too shy for that sort of thing. But this was just one weekend. He could surely afford to take one little chance, couldn't he?

"Gwyn, wait!" He called after her, hurrying down the hallway in pursuit of her retreating figure.

She turned slowly and Zac followed the light of her candle.

"Umm.. I was just thinking," he said, then cleared his throat and tried to build up his courage He could go through with this. He had to. "You can, umm, stop working soon, right? For the night?"

"I guess I can, yeah," Gwyn replied, looking a bit confused.

"Well, I was just thinking... if the storm keeps you up, too, maybe we could keep each other company?" Zac asked and the question tumbled out of his mouth nearly as one word.

Something strange flashed in Gwyn's eyes for a second and her lips turned down in a frown that she quickly seemed to force into a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we can. It might be late, though... but if you're still up I'll be down tidying the kitchen and dining room for a while. Meet me down there in an hour or so?"

Zac smiled with relief. "Good. That sounds great, then."

Gwyn returned his smile, then turned to leave. Zac watched her retreat down the hallway as long as he could, until the glow of her candle disappeared around a corner. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be so bad after all, he thought. At least one good thing might come out of it.


	4. Chapter 4

It was perfect. The stars had aligned on this night, it seemed. Perhaps it was a bit inconvenient to have so many people in the mansion, but it was all the better to throw off suspicion. After all, everyone there was a little bit mad. It could be any of them, right? 

Yes, this night was perfect.

Now it was just a matter of waiting until the studio was empty. Once everyone had stopped arguing and decided to put down their instruments for the night. Once the equipment was switched off and the room no longer full of angry voices. The soundproofing would work wonders, if Remy even managed to scream. It was doubtful that he would, though. If they could just be quick enough, and strong enough, to pull the cord tight around his neck before he could utter a single scream...

The entire mansion seemed a bit on edge. Everyone was frayed around the edges, but exhausted from a long day. No one would be keeping alert for something like this to happen, even if they weren't tired or drunk. It was the perfect opportunity.

All that was left was to wait just a little bit longer.

****

Isaac didn't really want to share his room with Zac, but he could see the reasoning behind it. They'd conserve candles that way, at least. He was certain that he'd thought to throw a flashlight into his suitcase, but as he dug through it, tossing clothes all about the room, a flashlight was nowhere to be seen. He supposed he must have taken it out at the last minute, figuring there would be no need to come quite that prepared.

He had, obviously, been wrong.

He licked his fingers and snuffed out his candle, leaving only Zac's burning on the nightstand. At least the room Remy had moved them into had two beds. If Taylor ever turned up, Isaac supposed they would stick him in the floor. He'd like to just stick him with Zac, the notorious bed hog, and see how well he liked that. But there was no reason to be that much of an asshole to him, really. Taylor would be over this fling with Poppy in a few hours and then he'd be back to normal-–or whatever passed for normal in Taylor's world.

Glad to have a bed all to himself, at least, Isaac wiggled out of his clothes and into the heavy pajamas he had had the foresight to bring. The night hadn't really been that chilly so far, but he imagined it would be before long. He crawled into bed and curled up under the covers, rolling around until he found a comfortable spot to lay.

"Aren't you going to bed?" Isaac asked, as he rolled over to see Zac sitting up in bed frowning at a book held close to his face. He couldn't imagine there was any way, not even with the candle positioned so close, that Zac could actually make out any of the words.

"Nope. Not sleepy. Kinda... restless, I guess, with the storm and everything," Zac replied, squinting and pulling the book closer to his face.

"How the hell can you even see to read that?"

"Can't. Not really. But it's this or the guitar. Which would you prefer?"

"Good point," Isaac replied and rolled over the other way, facing the wall. He hoped sleep would come soon, but nothing gave him the confidence to really believe that it would.

****

The storm seemed determined not to stop at all. Zac didn't really mind much since he wasn't planning on sleeping for quite some time, anyway. He was glad he'd charged up his cell phone – even without signal, which the rain had apparently knocked out, he could keep an eye on the time. Every few minutes, his eyes darted to the phone's screen to see how much time had passed and each time he was disappointed by how slow it seemed to creep by.

He didn't want to seem too eager, so even as it neared the hour mark he thought it best to wait just a bit longer. He had long since given up trying to read the book; once he leaned in so close to the candle that he thought he had set the book on fire. Zac figured it was best not to start a fire in a house where he was a guest, so after that he tossed the book aside and just took to starting at the wall, which he could also only barely make out in the darkness.

Finally, when an hour and twenty minutes had passed, he decided it was time.

With a long, deep breath, he stood and tried to gather up all of his courage. Zac wished he knew where Taylor was. Maybe he could have asked him for some advice. Not that he really wanted to behave like Taylor, but at least he had some confidence in himself and actually succeeded at getting the girl more often than not. He set the candlestick on the dresser so that it would illuminate the mirror a bit and combed his fingers through his hair. Finally satisfied that it looked about as good as it was going to, he picked the candle up and used it to guide his way out of the room and down the hallway.

It was a good thing he wasn't really in a hurry, Zac thought, because the darkness of the house kept him from walking very fast. Knowing him, he'd trip and drop the candle. So he took his steps carefully and slowly, holding the candlestick out in front of his body to light the path as best he could.

In the darkness, it was difficult to even remember where he was going. Once he made it down the stairs, he could hear voices off in the distance and decided to follow that. At first he couldn't be sure who the voices were at all, but as he grew closer one of them began to sound familiar. The closer and closer he came to the source – it seemed to be the foyer – he realized the voices were quite angry, and one of them was very nearly screaming.

When he rounded the corner, he saw that the male voice was in fact, as he suspected, coming from Rio. The female voice, which he hadn't recognized, was coming from a short, squat woman in a bright blue raincoat. She looked rather like a drowned rat, if rats were prone to having bad perms, and she was standing on her tiptoes to yell in Rio's face, waving her flashlight around madly.

"I've told him a million times to keep the noise down up here!" the woman yelled.

Rio backed away from her. "Mrs. Cobalt, we've not been playing any music at all since the power went out, I can promise you that." 

"I'm not just talking about the damn music!" the woman, evidently named Mrs. Cobalt, screeched. Zac even backed up a bit in fear, not wanting to get near enough to have her anger directed at him. "Someone was making a racket outside just a few minutes ago. There's no need for people to be out making such noise at this time of night. And in a storm, too!"

"How do you know it wasn't just the storm, then? I'm sure no one here is dumb enough to wander outside right now," Rio replied. 

Mrs. Cobalt seemed ready to explode at that. Instead of responding, however, she simply grumbled a few times, stared at Rio, and finally turned on her heel and strode back out the door. Once she was gone, Rio slumped back against the door, looking absolutely exhausted. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Zac took that opportunity to step a bit further into the foyer.

"Sorry you had to be witness to that," Rio said, holding out his own candle to illuminate Zac a bit more. "She's crazy. Remy warned me about her, but I had no idea how bad it was."

"Who the hell was that? Crazy neighbor?" Zac asked, stepping closer so that he could actually get a look at the man he was talking to. 

As he got closer, Zac realized that Rio's dark hair was shining with water. Had he been out in the storm? Was he the person that Mrs. Cobalt had seen outside? It was pretty unlikely that he'd tried to take a shower in the middle of the night and with no electricity, so the first option seemed the most likely. Still, it didn't make sense. Who'd go outside in that kind of storm except a crazy person?

"Adele Cobalt. Completely off her rocker. Lives next door and apparently has made a habit of calling the cops on Remy. She'd like it better if he didn't live here at all, I think," Rio replied. "What are you doing up at this hour anyway?"

"I was gong to ask you that, actually," Zac replied. "I was just going to get a uh, a drink from the kitchen. Couldn't sleep."

Rio ran a hand self-consciously through his hair. "Oh, I couldn't sleep either. Was just uh... just working on something up in the studio and decided to go for a bit of a walk around the house to clear my mind. Then I ran into her."

Zac nodded, but the explanation didn't totally make sense. "Well, I'll just get myself a drink and go back to bed, I suppose."

"I should head back upstairs, too," Rio replied. "Sleep well. We've got a lot of work to get through tomorrow."

With that, the other man walked away, leaving Zac a bit puzzled and staring at the front door. When he was certain that no other crazy old ladies were going to come bursting through it, Zac turned and made his way toward the kitchen. He hoped that little detour hadn't been enough for Gwyn to give up waiting for him.

Still holding his candlestick carefully out in front of him, Zac made his way to the kitchen. It took him a little longer than he would have liked. The candle was getting very low and he had to stop to peel the melting wax off his fingers a few times. Each time he swore out of habit, even though the calluses on his fingers kept it from really hurting all that much.

When he finally made it to the kitchen he slowly swept his candle across the room to light it up. It was empty. No Gwyn. Had she grown tired of waiting for him? He knew he should have come sooner, should have hurried. Maybe she hadn't come at all. That wouldn't have surprised him one bit.

Suddenly, a scream echoed through the house. Zac knew the voice, without a doubt. 

It was Isaac.

****

Isaac tossed and turned for what felt like hours but might have only been a few minutes. Something about the storm and the darkness made it nearly impossible for him to sleep. When he rolled over to face Zac's bed, he thought the bed looked empty but he couldn't be certain. He fumbled on the nightstand for his candlestick and matches and once lit, it confirmed his suspicions.

The bed was, indeed, empty.

Tossing back the covers, Isaac stood and looked around the room. Zac was nowhere to be found. Were both of his brothers determined to play some stupid game of hide and seek all weekend? He frowned and surveyed the room once more. Definitely empty.

Now that he was awake and standing, he didn't at all feel like crawling back into the bed and attempting sleep again. Instead, he decided to make his way to the studio and fiddle around with his guitar a bit. He could easily play it in the dark; after this long, it was pretty instinctual. A little candlelight would be more than enough, and hopefully after a few minutes of strumming around he would be tired enough to sleep. With the candlestick in hand, he made his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the studio.

The candle really didn't help light the way very much, though, especially with no windows on that particular section of the hall. He clung to the wall, running his hand along the chair railing to keep himself steady as he held the candle out as far in front of him as he could to light the path. After what seemed like forever, he finally felt the studio door underneath his hands. The smooth texture of it, free of the elaborate designs that covered the rest of the mansion's doors, were a dead giveaway.

Pushing the door open with one hand, Isaac held his candle out into the dark room with the other. As he closed the door behind him, he realized just how creepy the soundproofing was. He knew it was storming all around him, but he could no longer hear it. 

He was surrounded by total, unnatural silence.

He remembered that he had left one of his acoustic guitars propped against a wall in the inner studio. With the candle still held out in front of him, he slowly made his way toward it. The door had been left ajar, which he thought was a little odd. Pushing it open further, he saw why.

Sprawled across the floor, his legs bent at strange angles, was Remy. An empty stand leaned precariously against a wall, the microphone having been pulled from it and wrapped tight around Remy's neck. 

Ike stumbled back to lean against the wall. He was dead. Remy was dead. Even without trying to check his pulse-–the thought of touching a dead body terrified him too much to even consider that-–Isaac was certain of it.

He barely even realized that the scream piercing the air was his own. It seemed to happen in spite of himself as he stood trembling in fear.

Someone in this house was a killer, and Isaac was staring at a dead, murdered body.


	5. Chapter 5

Zac wasn't sure where the scream had come from, but he knew that he had to find it. Whatever had made Isaac scream that loudly couldn't possibly be a good thing. It sounded like his brother had been absolutely terrified and that possibility really worried Zac. 

He didn't want to run with a lit candle in his hand, but he hurried as best he could to the stairs and back to the second floor of the house. As loud as it was, he was pretty sure the voice hadn't been all that close to him. It had definitely come from the second floor; he wasn't sure where, but of that he was at least certain. He figured the best place to search first was near their bedroom. When he found the right door and looked in, he could see that the room was empty. That only served to increase his worry and fear.

Stepping back into the hallway, he called out, "Isaac? Ike, where are you?"

"Here!" came the reply, soft but still clear enough for Zac to hear the fear in it.

"That's fucking helpful," Zac mumbled to himself.

With one hand out to grasp the wall and the candle still held out in the other, the flame shaking as proof of just how nervous he was, Zac began to walk down the hall. He couldn't be sure which room, but somewhere in the winding halls of the second floor, he knew he would find his brother.

When he neared the recording studio, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and a soft candlelight like his own was seeping out of it. 

"Ike?" He asked hesitantly, still a few feet away from the studio out of fear.

No reply came, but the door swung open to reveal Isaac standing on the other side of it, looking deathly pale. His lips trembled and wiggled, but no words came out. He stumbled backward to allow Zac into the room. 

Tentatively, Zac walked into the room, holding his candle up near his face to help him see Ike's a little better. "What's going on? You're not hurt or anything?"

Isaac shook his head. "No I'm not. _I'm_ not. But... but..."

As he trailed off, Isaac pointed a shaky finger toward the recording booth. Zac's stomach dropped. He wasn't quite sure what Ike meant, but he could guess, and he didn't like the idea at all. He reached out for Isaac's arm and grasped his sleeve tightly. Zac wanted to ask who, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth form the words. 

It was like witnessing a car wreck. He didn't want to look, he really didn't, but he had to see it. He had to know. And so Zac found himself walking toward the recording booth, dragging Isaac along behind him. He could sense Isaac's reluctance to look again, but Zac was the stronger of the two and his strength won out. 

As they reached the recording booth door and Zac pushed it open, he felt Isaac tugging back out of his grasp. Frustrated, he let go. Whatever was in the other room, Isaac obviously didn't want to see again, and if he was going to fight that badly, Zac wouldn't force him to look. Taking a deep breath, Zac shoved the door open and peaked his head in.

He only looked for a second – just long enough to confirm his fears. It was a dead person, but it wasn't Taylor. Not that that really made it any less of a tragedy, but it meant he could relax just a little. Now that he had seen it, he pulled the door together and fell back against it, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"What-–what are we gonna do, Ike? There's a fucking... a fucking..." he stuttered out, his mind filling with a thousand terrible thoughts one after another.

"Dead person? Murderer? Big, fuck off thunder storm?" Isaac offered. "Yeah, I know."

The sound of the studio door opening made Zac jump and immediately he began to scan the room for some sort of weapon. What if the murderer was back? What if they were going to kill him or Isaac next?

"Guys? Are you in here?" 

Zac and Isaac both spun around quickly, holding out their candles as makeshift weapons. It was only Taylor. Zac let out a sigh and lowered his candle slightly. 

"Don't come any closer," Isaac said.

Taylor ignored him and took a few steps forward. "What? What's going on? I heard you scream, what happened?"

"Took you long enough to come see, didn't it?"

"I was... well. I looked everywhere. Now what the hell is going on?"

Zac cleared his throat. "It's Remy, Tay. Somebody _killed_ him."

"What? You're shitting me, right? That's a terrible joke."

"It's not a joke!" Ike screeched, waving his hand toward the recording booth. "Look for yourself if you don't believe us."

Taylor scoffed, but shoved past Isaac and Zac nonetheless. He peeked his head into the recording booth and just as quickly, backed away from it, his face three shades lighter than usual. 

"Do you believe me now?"

Taylor didn't answer, merely sank onto the nearest couch and stared at the wall. After a few minutes of silence, he looked up and stared at his brothers.

"What are we going to do?"

Isaac took a long, deep breath. "I think we get to be detectives now."

****

In just a matter of minutes, Isaac had a plan. He wasn't sure why he felt like he should be in charge, but if he didn't at least try to take control of the situation, he would probably spend the rest of the weekend cowering in a corner. Mustering up all the courage he had, he sent his brothers off to look for all the other guests, while he paced around the library trying to figure out what to do next.

The Agatha Christie paperback still sat abandoned in the floor where it had fallen when the lights went out. Isaac wished he had the smarts to really be a detective, but he figured he could do his best. It wasn't like Miss Marple or Poirot ever did anything anyway; the solutions just seemed to fall into their laps. Not that Isaac wanted a murderer to fall into his lap, but he certainly wished he knew which one of the guests he ought to be running away from.

After a few more minutes spent pacing, the door opened. Taylor walked in with Jude and Blaine trailing behind himself. Blaine had managed to find a flashlight and both he and Jude looked absolutely frightened. Isaac wondered how much Taylor had actually told them about the situation. He could only assume that everyone else had been asleep, or else they would have heard his scream anyway and come running. It didn't really make sense, though – shouldn't someone else have been curious?

"Where's everyone else?" Isaac asked as he watched Rio and Blaine make their way to seats.

Taylor cleared his throat. "Poppy is... uh, she's on her way."

Isaac decided it was best not to push that particular issue, and pressed his lips tight together to keep any snide comments from slipping out on their own.

A few minutes later the door opened and Zac walked in with Gwyn and Rio. He walked a little too close to Gwyn for Isaac's comfort – it seemed he was following in Taylor's footsteps and that worried Ike. He resisted the urge to groan at the sight, or roll his eyes at the two candles Rio clutched tightly in his hands. 

"Leave it to you to hog the candles so the rest of us are left in the dark," Jude mumbled.

Thankfully, Rio chose not to reply, but merely snarled in Jude's general direction as he took up a seat on the other side of the room. Isaac was really hoping people would keep the dramatics to a minimum, but he supposed that was too much to ask for in such a situation. He was smart enough to realize that things would only get worse, too.

Everyone sat in awkward silence for several minutes, until the door finally swung open and revealed Poppy, her candle illuminating her flustered expression. She stood in the doorway for a moment, her eyes darting around the room, before scurrying to a seat next to Taylor. 

Isaac really didn't want to dwell on that, so he decide to forge ahead and get the announcement over with. He cleared his throat and looked around at everyone, feeling strangely self conscious as he realized how many pairs of eyes were trained on him. It wasn't really a large crowd, but he had the attention of all of them and that, coupled with the news he was about to deliver, made it rather unnerving.

"Guys... we've got some terrible news. Remy is dead. Murdered, we think."

"He's what?" Rio yelped.

"Dead," Zac repeated. "We found him--well, Ike found him–-in the studio. It's really not a pretty sight."

"Who would do something like that?" Poppy asked.

"Oh for god's sake, how are they supposed to know that?" Rio asked, rolling his eyes. "I mean, unless they did it."

Poppy sank back into her seat with a pout and Isaac turned away from her to face the rest of the room. He looked to Zac in hopes that he would offer him some support but Zac's attention was focused on Gwyn.

"I wouldn't exactly be telling all of you about it if I killed him, would I?" Isaac asked, but didn't wait for a reply before he continued, "Look, the phones are out so until we get power back, we can't call the cops. So we're all stuck here with Remy in the studio. Whoever killed him is probably still here. I don't know what to do. I'm a musician, not a detective. But if I can do anything to figure out who did this, I'd like to try. Right now, I can't trust any of you except for Taylor and Zac."

 _And I barely trust them..._ Isaac thought to himself, but did not say it.


End file.
